


The Fragile Connection

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Guns of Gamora, Long Distance Pining, Mutual Pining, Season/Series 03, Separation Anxiety, The Other World, alternate reality crossover, i don't know how to tag things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 19:21:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13841346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Across universes, they establish a connection - once, twice, and three times. Three chapters, three times that Sven and Pidge find each other. Written for OlkarianPrincess/Kat for the VLD Exchange!





	The Fragile Connection

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter which I am getting up ON TIME-ish because this thing decided to be long and goddammit Sven is surprisingly engaging to write and DAMMIT WORLDBUILDING HAPPENED HELP.

As far as Slav was concerned, there were no accidents, just interstellar collisions of fate’s design, and Sven was inclined to agree with him. It wasn’t that he bought into _all_ of Slav’s strange rambling; a lot of it just became background noise.

                But when he turned on the monitor in his ship only to see the face of one of the people they’d run into barely a fortnight ago, he had to agree with Slav; accidents just didn’t happen.

                “…Shiro?” she asked with a furrowed brow.

                He just laughed. “You called me that last time too.”

                “Wait, I –“ She adjusted her glasses. “ _Sven?_ ”

                “You remember!”

                “I – I do! How am – How am I picking up this signal?”

                Sven sat down in the pilot’s seat, trying not to chuckle too much; every time he did, it jostled his broken ribs. “I don’t know. We certainly are not _trying_ to. Are you back in this universe?”

                She glanced up at the screen, eyes wide. “No, we’re – we’re back in ours!”

                Well. Well that was _something._

* * *

 

                Fighting with the Guns of Gamora wasn’t easy. Sven’s friends were scattered across the universe, only running into each other on spare missions and the occasional moment of peace. But he treasured the moments where he could.

                With Akira, it was usually sparring – the type of low-stakes fighting where Sven could turn a grapple into a belly-flop onto the floor, trading in bruises and physical contact. “I missed you,” he’d whisper, then trace some of Akira’s new scars, never quite asking, Akira never quite offering.

                Moody and Seido, he saw more often. They always had something to show him – “C’mon, Sven,” Moody always ended up saying. “How often do you get to see Tijuana bibles of Altean ladies in your neck of the woods?”

                “He’s an Altean spy, Moody,” Seido sighed.

                “…Okay, well, yes, but it’s a _really good_ Tijuana bible-“

                “I brought booze,” Seido laughed, handing it to Sven as he eyed the bible with an uncertain look. “And don’t worry. This is just Moody’s latest thing. Next month it’ll be, I don’t know, luxite bracelets.”

                “Look. I’m a _collector._ ”

                “Of trash!”

                But Hiroshi – Hiroshi he only got to see once every few years. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been in deep cover at the Altean court, ingratiating herself with General Hira and the Empress-Regent Romelle. Every now and again, a ship of prisoners would come his and Slav’s way and they’d talk about the Olkari woman with the shock of hair and the scar on her cheekbone, and Sven would wonder –

                “I don’t understand! There’s no way for me to be picking up this frequency –“

                “Well, you are,” Sven laughed, sitting down. “I am sure Slav knows how it happened _properly._ But I suppose you are busy looking for your own one still. Shiro.”

                Pidge blinked, then nodded quietly. “We… still haven’t found him. I know he’s out there somewhere. My brother, too, and my dad.”

                “The Empire leaves many scars.”

                She chuckled a little, shaking her head wryly. “Different Empire, but… yeah.”

                For a moment, Sven thought she would just break the connection there. But she sat back in the chair, clinging to herself with a faraway look that Sven recognized.

                He leaned forward, wondering if he could reach through the screen just to touch her cheek and tell her it was going to be okay. “It is Pidge, yes?”

                She nodded. “Pidge or Katie. But only Sh-Shiro calls me Katie anymore, really.”

                “I will call you Pidge then. Pidge, you will find them. And you will be great.”

                “You think so?”

                “I _know_ so.” The smile on his face came so naturally it surprised him.

                She returned the smile, and seemed surprised to do so. “…Lemme figure out how I made this happen. I mean, if we can share intel across universes-“

                “I think that is an excellent idea.”

                She nosed around under the screen, then came the question he’d been dreading – “So, you’re the other universe’s Shiro – or, well, Shiro’s our universe’s version of you –“ Pidge’s head popped up over the screen again, and the screen fritzed for a second as she played with something. “Is there another me?”

                His voice caught in his throat for a second, and the shot he’d taken for their Moody – Lance, his name was – started hurting again. He missed them. He missed all of them. “…Sort of?”

                “Sort of? That’s not really an answer.”

                “Her name is Hiroshi. We do not see each other often.”

                “Oh wow. Does she do secret spy stuff like you guys?”

                “We do not do _secret spy stuff._ We do important reconnaissance!”

                “Uh huh. Sounds like secret spy stuff to me.”

                Sven cleared his throat, suddenly feeling a little hot under the collar. “A-anyway, what about you? How did Voltron end up being used _against_ the Empire?”

                “Uh – I’ll answer that once I make sure this connection’s secure. Hold up.”

                Pidge vanished from the screen again. There was a quick burst of static –

                -and the image disappeared.

                “Pidge?”

                There was no response. Sven leaned forward, pressing his fingers to the screen. “Pidge? _Pidge?_ ”

                But there was nothing but silence.

* * *

 

                Sven fell into the ship with a groan, clutching the injury on his shoulder and yelling, “Slav, go, _now!_ ”

                “I’m working, I’m working-“

                “NOW!”

                A trap. Of course it had been a trap. He just had to hope Hiroshi was okay. Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.

                He’d gotten a message from Hiroshi about some more freed prisoners. And – well – anybody else, he would have thought about it first. Anybody else, anybody he spoke to more often, he might have noticed that the wording was wrong, or that the location was suspiciously close to a base.

                But he’d been so excited to see his friend.

                He wasn’t sure how long he lay on the floor of the ship before Slav slithered over to him. “There is less than a 5% chance of them catching up to us in this reality,” he reassured him. “Why don’t you fly for a little while and I’ll contact our closest ally?”

                “Thank you,” Sven wheezed. Flying helped. Flying meant he was in control.

                “First though, I’m getting you something for that injury! That’s no good for our odds.”

                “I’m aware,” Sven grumbled, climbing into the pilot seat.

                The moment he did, a hail alert popped up on the screen.

                “Slav, I thought you said –“

                “I did! I don’t know who –“

                “ _Sven? Sven, is that you?”_

Sven forgot to breathe.

                “Pidge?” He scrambled at the screen, trying to adjust the frequency. “Pidge?”

                Her face flickered on the screen, lips moving in slow-motion. Then she was gone again.

                Sven slumped back in his chair, feeling like he’d just been hit in the chest.

                Four seconds. He hadn’t realized he’d been counting. She’d been on the screen for four seconds.

                “Was that the girl from the other universe?” Slav asked tentatively.

                “Yeah,” Sven breathed.

                “Hiroshi’s double?”

                He’d been forgetting to think of her as that. It was probably smarter to remind himself that they were – in so many ways – the same person. But…

                But Sven had never been the smart one.

                “Her name is Pidge.”


End file.
